Tarnished
by RogueMoon
Summary: An unfortunate accident returns Remy to the body of a child and Sinister uses the opportunity to reclaim the thief, through both legal and not so legal means. Original Idea by Peppymint, posted with permission.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Don't own X-Men. Don't make money.

**Tarnished**

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written and expanded upon by RogueMoon

Original Idea by Peppymint

Posted and continued with permission of Peppymint

Chapter One

**::: :::**

Mixed French curses tumbled from Gambit's lips as he stalked back and forth across the room. Hating how it took so much longer now, when before it would have taken only a few strides. As far as he was concerned, anyone who thought that reliving their childhood would be fun was insane.

His had been bad enough the first time, living on the streets. Images of the dirty brick walls that served for beds and cardboard boxes as blankets when he was too tired to keep moving flitted through his mind. Prior to being picked up by the Guild, his life was one of desperation. Of just trying to get enough food to make it through the night and be strong enough to run when someone tried to use his body.

Remy just hoped someone would figure out how to fix this soon. He paused mid-step, a disgusted sound escaping his throat. Who was he kidding? When had he ever been that lucky? It had taken weeks for Ororo to revert when she was de-aged. In the privacy of his own mind, Gambit admitted that a large part of what bothered him about the situation was his own helplessness.

The Cajun was half his previous size. He wasn't as strong; he wasn't as fast. Not to mention, his kinetic powers were gone. They hadn't manifested until his teens. He still had his charm, but that didn't do much good in straight out combat. Remy had little doubt that he could still take an ordinary human, but someone like Sabertooth, or Mystique. It would be a slaughter, and not from his side.

Then there was everyone's attitude. In all honesty, Gambit could not blame them for banning him from the field. In his current state, he was a liability. But still. Jean had gone ballistic when she had caught him sneaking into the danger room to practice. _Mon dieu, _she had dressed him down as if he were actually the child he appeared to be. The others had been no better. He was an adult damn it, not an _enfante_.

Gambit was so preoccupied with his own thoughts he failed to notice that he was not longer alone in the room. Not until it was too late. A pair of strong arms scooped his small body off the ground.

"Got you now." The amused voice was unmistakable.

The full-grown man trapped in the body of a eight-year old went tense as a board for a split second before he started to struggle. "Put me down," Remy snarled. For all the good it did him, Sinister's arms may well have been made of solid steel.

"Do hold still, Remington," the white skinned man ordered, a trace of annoyance behind the amusment. "You are only going to do yourself injury." Essex took the opportunity to examine the younger, much younger, man. "You seem to have gotten yourself into quite the predicament my son."

He hadn't had anything to do with this situation. Hadn't quite believed it when he first heard, but that wasn't going to stop him from taking advantage of it. It was far too good to pass up.

"Don' call me dat," Remy hissed, still struggling to break free. He knew that it was technically the truth, but that didn't mean he had to like it, or acknowledge it. "I'm not your son." There were more important things than blood. So far as he was concerned, Jean-Luc was his _pere_, not Sinister.

Essex's lips curved into a cold smile, turning the boy to face him, "That is where you are mistaken, Remington. You are a child," he paused, purely for the dramatic effect of it all. "And I, I am your Father come to take you home."

Gambit froze, the full horror of the situation striking him,"Like hell!"

"Language," Sinister chided with a grin. He adjusted his grip on the brunette, cradling him against his broad chest in a mockery of a loving hug. "I think you will find, that you really have no choice in the matter." It was time and past that Remy get over this ridiculous notion that he somehow had control over his own destiny.

It was then that the doors slammed open, the X-men tumbling into the room in various states of disarray, responding to Gambit's telepathic screams. Seeing who their unexpected visitor was, they tensed. This was bad, very bad.

"Release him Sinister," Cyclops ordered. His fingers rose to his visor, but he didn't shoot, not yet. He couldn't risk hitting the Cajun.

Sinister chuckled, patting Gambit's head paternally, "I don't think so Scott. Remy belongs to me and I will be taking what is mine."

Behind his visor, Scott's eyes narrowed. There were so many things wrong with that statement, he didn't know where to begin. He hadn't even known Remy had any history with the scientist. Obviously though, he did. Sinister didn't act that familiar with just anyone. Cyclops made a mental note to drag the answers out of the secretive Cajun's hide once this was over.

For now though, Scott had other concerns, like the one right in front of him. "Remy," Cyclops said coldly, "belongs to no one but himself." He wasn't sure what Sinister's intentions were, but there was no way he was just going to let the geneticist walk out of here, especially not with Gambit.

The doctor sneered but his response was cut short as Gambit got in a lucky shot to his groin and, while it didn't actually hurt Essex, the Cajun managed to use the short distraction to squirm out of his arms. The seemingly young boy darted across the room and behind the X-men, putting them between himself and Sinister.

Scott did not hesitate. He fired, blasting a hole through the red-eyed man and knocking him to the floor.

Sinister pulled himself to his feet. Glaring at the group, he clutched his hand over the hole in is chest that was already startting to heal and snarled, "This isn't over." A moment later, a tesseract opened behind the doctor, transporting him away. But they all knew he would be back, though only one of them knew why.

When Cyclops turned to find Remy, the man-in-a-child's body had made his escape and was long gone. It was only the fact that he no longer had the mental static around his mind and could be found easily that kept Scott from cursing the man out.

**::: :::**

"Don' kno' not'ing," Remy replied. Again. His accent getting thicker and harder to understand with each answer. The man looked every bit the child whose body he currently inhabited. Pouting, arms crossed, scrunched in the chair and glaring at the wall, the floor, the ceiling. Basicly avoiding looking at anyone as he tried his best to end this little interregation session as quickly as possible.

"Gambit, please," Scott was on his last, fraying nerves with the man. "Sinister-"

"'S jus' tak'n' advantage o' de sit'ation. Taught Remy'd be a easy mark."

Cyclops' head fell against the desk and a long low groan of frustration left him, his hands curling in his hair, pulling at it. They had been at this for two hours already and still nothing.

"Remy, sugah," Rogue bit her lower lip and smiled pleasantly, trying to use Gambit's attraction for her to her advantage. "Sinister doesn't just act like that with anyone..."

"Non. He act dat way wit' de X-Men, his personal shallow end o' de gene pool," Gambit grumbled, barely understandable. "Tol' ya I don' kno' not'ing more. Not like Scott knew de man was playin' 'im an' ya didn' go an' give 'im de t'ird degree when he showed 'is face." It was a petty shot. But it worked.

Scott stood and headed for the door, "Fine. You don't know anything. Sinister took the time to get past the mansion security undetected just to try and kidnap you for no reason what so ever."

"What? Ya jealous, Scooter?" Remy stood in the chair, facing backwards, arms over the back rest. His voice cruel, taunting. "Sinister didn't come for you dis time and you find you don't like not feeling like de center of attention golden boy dat de world revolves around?"

Scott's hands curled into fists and he slammed the door behind him.

"Remy, that wasn't called for!" Storm admonished her friend, anger at his callousness causing a crack of thunder.

He stuck his tounge out at her and back flipped onto the desk, then dived for the open window.

Rogue caught him before he was halfway through, "What do ya'll think you're doing, sugah?"

She held him against her chest and he looked up at her, all cheeky grins and mischief, "Taking advantage of de situation?" His arms wrapped around her and snuggled into her ample bossom, "...mmm."

She flew the rest of the way out the window and dropped him in the pool, muttering about stupid swamp rats and flaying people alive, cheeks flushed a bright red.

Storm floated down next to the pool, landing as Remy pulled himself out. He was still grinning, "Completely worth it."

Ororo shook her head and leaned over to smooth his wet hair out of his face.

"Stop dat," he squirmed and pushed her hands away, expression sour.

"Simply because you wear the form of a child, my brother, that does not give you the right to act like one," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sinister is a formitable man. And if he has an interest in you, Remy, than you should be ready for the worst. And you should not mock others for their involvement with him. Scott was emotionally tortured by that man as a child."

Gambit shrugged the words away and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He had been emotionally and physically tortured by the man, but he didn't go around airing his dirty laundry like that. Frowning as his fingers touched the contents of his pocket, he pulled out a soggy cigarette pack, "Great. My last pack and I'm stuck in de body of an eight year old." He looked up at Ororo and gave her his best puppy dog eyes, "Stormy..."

She frowned at him and shook her head, rising into the air, "No, and do not call me that." She flew away before he could reply.

Remy let out another string of curses before heading back into the house, looking for Logan. Maybe he could get the Canadian to buy him some more smokes.

**::: :::**

Essex straightened his tie and took a final look over his appearance. Clean cut with an air of wealth and breeding, but not too much wealth. Six digit income, but barely. Private practice with personal genetic research on the side didn't pay that well.

Black hair slicked back and goatee neatly trimmed, skin slightly tanned with no odd markings to betray his true self. Eyebrows elegantly arched and eyes a warm brown with just a flicker of red to them, should the lighting hit properly. All in all, he looked every bit the man he once was.

Rebecca would have been fussing over his suit by now, smoothing down his lapels and fluffing any frills. Smiling at him and telling him he looked quite debonair. A soft grin pulled at his lips with the memories before he shoved them away and nodded to his reflection. His appearance was perfect.

The doctor lifted the leather bag, a very fashionable business accessory at the moment, and opened it, checking a final time that he had all the necessary paperwork and 'evidence'. He chuckled to himself and slipped the carry strap over his shoulder, heading out of the small townhouse he had just bought for his latest endeavor.

Sinister had it all worked out. The arrangements made within hours of being forced from his 'little boy' by the 'wicked' teachers at the Xavier Institute. Called in favors and greased palms with bribes that could have gotten a holocaust covered up for decades and enough red tape to last a century. Assuming the government survived that long. It had been worth it to have all the documents arrive promptly on his doorstep at 6'o'clock AM.

He whistled a happy tune - yes, whistled! - as he walked unhurried down the street to the bus stop and allowed himself to join the press of human bodies as he got on the green line to downtown Salem Center. He had a very important appointment with the New York board of Child Protective Services; he was going to get his son back.

**::: :::**

End Chapter


	2. Chapter 2

**Tarnished**

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written and expanded upon by RogueMoon

Original Idea by Peppymint

Posted and continued with permission of Peppymint

Chapter Two

**::: :::**

"Thank you for seeing me so quickly, Mrs. Davidson," Nathaniel said with a relieved, hopeful smile that held just a hint of stress and worry.

The plump woman smiled back kindly and shook the doctor's hand. He was very attractive for an older man in his mid forties, the lack of gray hair prompting her to believe he dyed it, "Not at all, Doctor Essex. We at the CPS take our responsibilities seriously and this issue is one that should be resolved easily enough. It is unfortunate that your estranged wife-"

"We were never married," he murmured, bowing his head.

She grimaced and nodded, "I apologize. I naturally assumed that when you said separated... My mistake."

He only tilted his in acknowledgment.

"As I was saying, it is unfortunate that the mother of your son died and you were not made aware of her death. However, the information we have on the Xavier School for the Gifted put it as being one of the best private schools in the country. If your son was left within their custody after Mrs. Mueller died, than it was most likely because no information about you was given to them. They are very proactive in keeping their students connected to their families."

Nathaniel chuckled bitterly, "Of course. It would be just like Amanda to not tell anyone about me or leave contact information. She was... It unfortunately was not a kind separation. She was... but you are certain that I will be allowed to see my son and take him home? This School can be trusted? My son... Amanda told me he was... special. When she told me anything at all..."

Mrs. Davidson smiled and reached a hand across the desk to settle reassuringly over one of the doctors, giving it a small squeeze, "I have worked with them in the past, Doctor Essex. They take care of 'special' children quite well. Once I explain the situation and present the paperwork, I am certain that Professor Xavier will be more than happy to reunite you with your son."

**::: :::**

"Out of the question," Xavier replied, shutting the manila folder and sliding it back across the desk to the CPS agent.

She sat there looking quite shocked, "Charles! This man has a right to take his son back. You cannot legally keep a child here when his-"

"Remy will be staying here, Carla," Xavier replied, calmly. "Until such time as a paternity test definitively proves that Doctor Essex is his biological father. And I have my doubts that it will. Remy is here of his own free will and I will not force him from his home."

She frowned and took the folder back, angry at the man before her, "Unless Mrs. Mueller signed legal guardianship of Remy over to you in her will, you have no case to keep him here. He is only eight years old, he belongs with his father if his father will have him. And his father does want him, Charles."

"Again, I express my doubts as to the honesty of Doctor Essex in this matter."

She gave him an incredulous look, "Really now Charles. What reason could Doctor Essex have for trying to take an eight year old boy from this place other than to have his son back with him? The paperwork checks out."

Xavier met her gaze and steepled his fingers, "Unless a paternity test proves Doctor Essex is undeniably Remy's father, the child will stay under our protection. You know we have the resources to fight for it."

Carla stood and shook her head, addressing her friend in a frank tone, "What you are doing is highly illegal, Charles. I will inform Doctor Essex of your doubts. But his paperwork is clean, and if he decides to take this to court, your school may not survive the resulting shit-storm." She gave a frustrated sigh and put the papers away in her briefcase, "I will have to see him before I leave."

"Of course. I believe he's in the rec room with some of the other students," the professor replied. "If you'll wait one moment, Ms. Munroe will be up to escort you."

"Don't worry about it Charles, I know the way," she replied and let herself out of the office. For the first time questioning her professional relationship with the Institute, but also second guessing the validity of Doctor Essex's claim. Charles had never acted this way before when the parent of a runaway taking shelter at his school stepped forward. Perhaps a paternity test would be for the best. Just to cover all the bases.

**::: :::**

Sam's gaze held steady, meeting the wide, red on black eyes of his opponent without fear. He was trying keep a straight face, not give anything away, but it was rather difficult to do with the sight before him. Remy sat back in his chair, one arm draped causally over the back, lit cigarette and beer bottle handing from his fingers while the other held his cards. Baseball cap turned backwards.

Sam set his cards down and started laughing. He couldn't help it anymore.

The Cajun frowned, looking more like a pout, "What?"

"Can't help it!" the Midwestern responded, taking a swig of his own beer. "Just you. Tryin' ta look all badass with yourself. Ain't never watched an eight year old drink and smoke and play poker before. Much less seen one clean house. Its quite a sight. I need my phone. Gonna post this up on the internet."

The others at the table joined in the laughter, including Remy. He took a long drag from his cigarette, followed by a deep swallow of dark brown liquor, "You foldin' den, mon ami? For de sake of de video?"

"Hell no! I can still win this," Sam replied as Bobby pulled out his phone.

"Don't worry, Cannonball, I got this. Give me a second to pull up the video function," he backed up to just in front of the door of the room, getting everyone in frame. "Okay, we're rolling. Smile and wave guys. Hold up that beer, Remy! Look at that kid clear the house!"

Scott and Logan had to turn around fully in their chairs to look at the camera while Sam was in profile and Remy held up his bottle for the camera. They were all sporting smiles and chuckling at first. Then, slowly, their faces melted into looks of horror as they gazed at Iceman.

"Oh come on! Being filmed isn't that bad guys."

Scott's face paled the most as he suddenly turned to look at Remy and then back again. Standing up he waved his hands, "Mrs. Davidson, this isn't what it looks like."

Bobby spun around, face falling as he did so to see a throughly scandalized CPS worker staring in horror at the sight of an eight year old with a beer bottle and cigarette in one hand and a pile of poker chips in front of him. Her eyes focused on Scott, "Then you had better come up with a good explanation right now."

He gulped, mouth working, trying to come up with something, anything.

Xavier rolled into the room behind Carla and the woman's eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before she smiled and walked past everyone to hold her hand out to Gambit, "Remy, its so nice to meet you. I'm Carla Davidson. You can call me Carla or Mrs. Davidson, whichever you prefer. I'm with the New York Child Protective Services. Do you know what we do?"

Remy looked wide eyed at Xavier, slowly putting the beer down, the cigarette dropped into the bottle to put it out. The Professor's eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating, so Remy turned back to the woman and smiled, pouring on the charm as he shook her hand, "No Miss Carla. What do ya do?"

She giggled at him, "We help keep children safe and sometimes we have the opportunity to reunite families. Your father is interested in meeting you and making your family whole again. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Uh... sure," he gave her a disbelieving look but thought that maybe this was part of whatever Xavier was feeding her mind to keep her from reacting to the apparent child delinquency that was quite rampant in the room. "Dat be great. Love ta see mon pere."

Her grin got wider, if that was possible, "I'll be sure to tell him that and arrange for a meeting so you can go home as fast as possible. You keep out of trouble and keep these boys on their toes." She turned around and nodded to the others as she left the room and presumably the mansion.

The occupants of the rec room waited quietly for several minutes until the Professor finally opened his eyes and gave a sigh, "She believes you were playing Gin Rummy, drinking cherry soda and sucking on one of the several lollipops you apparently won."

Bobby snickered, not trying very hard to hold it back. The others joined him, save for Gambit, who was staring at Xavier, "What was dat about?"

Charles cleared his throat and gave a sigh. The room got quiet and everyone got the idea that something very serious was about to be said. They were right.

"She was here because a man claiming to be your biological father has approached the CPS with the intent to have you returned to his custody. He has all the proper paperwork to back his claim up. Including a birth certificate for you and a copy of the death certificate of your supposed mother, an Amanda Mueller."

The accompanying shock that kept the room silent was eventually broken by all five of the men shouting in unison, "What?"

Xavier held his hand up before anyone could continue with more questions, "Obviously, the paperwork is all forged. However, it is high quality and most convincing to the CPS. We have no records to counter any of his and it would be rather difficult to explain to a jury that Remy isn't actually the eight year old he appears to be and the reasons for this. I did insist upon a paternity test to verify his claims. If he wishes to pursue this I will insist that it be conducted either here, or at Worthington labs, where we have control over the samples and can ensure he doesn't tamper with the results. Results which will obviously come back negative."

Remy was getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, despite the more relieved looks of the others. He didn't want to ask, afraid of the answer he would get. But he had to know, "Did you find out who is making dis claim?"

Charles nodded, steepling his fingers, "I did. It is most worrisome that he has taken such an interest in you, Remy. I cannot fathom what would make him go this far to get his hand on you, but Sinister has done so. He is going quite openly by the name of Doctor Nathaniel Essex."

Scott's face hardened, "Gambit, this is serious now. He's never pulled anything like this before. What is it that he wants you for?"

Remy's eyes were on the table, his face unreadable as he fingered his cards. The others watched him, waiting for an answer. He flipped the cards, revealing a flush, all spades except the King. It was the suicide king. Gambit met Scott's eyes, hard and cold and emotionless, "He wants me ta stop folding and play the hand he dealt me."

"And what hand is that, Gumbo," Logan muttered, opening another beer.

Remy stood and shoved his hands into his pockets, heading for the door, "None of your concern." He ignored everyone, including Xavier and just kept walking.

Somewhere behind him Sam let out a wail, "He wasn't bluffing! I swore he was bluffing! I read his tell and everything! He just won the damn game!"

**::: :::**

End Chapter


	3. Chapter 3

**Tarnished**

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written and expanded upon by RogueMoon

Original Idea by Peppymint

Posted and continued with permission of Peppymint

Chapter Three

**::: :::**

It was two days after Mrs. Davidson's visit that she called to arrange what she believed to be the first meeting between presumed father and son. All very sensible and by the book. She and two other agents would oversee the collection of hair samples to send away to Worthington Labs as well as ensure that Doctor Essex and Remy's meeting went as well as possible.

She politely explained over the phone that he should not be offended if Remy is a bit wary of him and hostile at first. Many children acted out in such a manner when meeting a parent for the first time as a cover for feelings of abandonment that they didn't know how to deal with. He should also bring a present.

Essex asked what kind of present he should bring for an eight year old, his voice clearly edged with stress and worry. A typical reaction of a parent in such situations. Carla felt for the man, convinced that Charles' was just wrong in this case. She'd already convinced the Doctor to undergo the paternity test, so she didn't back out of it.

He had been a bit confused by the request at first. Carla lied easily and told him it was required since Mrs. Mueller left no paperwork for the boy. That the state now required testing due to the questionability of such claims in cases like his, for the protection of the child, of course. Nothing out of the ordinary. He seemed to give it some thought and then nodded, agreeing, telling her it was quite sensible of the state to do so. That he'd be happy to have it conducted. Anything to finally be the father he should have been years ago.

She told him to bring something sentimental as a present. Something that would make Remy feel closer to him because it was part of his family. Essex went quiet over the phone at that point. Carla could practically hear him try to figure out what he could possibly give the boy that fit the bill. Being a bachelor for so long had its downside. He said he'd try. She laughed and gave him assurances that he would do fine.

They set the meet and greet tentatively for the next day. He could come to the CPS office and they would all drive up together for the meeting. It would be best between Noon and Four PM. Sometime during then. No more than two hours though, so as not to overwhelm Remy emotionally.

Essex expressed concern about what he should wear and Carla's heart squeezed in her chest for the man. He was just so nice and sweet. It was few and far between that such honestly decent people tried to do the right thing for their children. He could have simply let Remy stay at the School, unclaimed and left to believe his father didn't want him. But Essex didn't.

Carla ended the phone call with happy tears in her eyes. Xavier was just being overprotective and he'd see at the meeting how wrong he was about the doctor.

She called the institute next and spoke with the Professor, informing him of Essex agreeing to the paternity test and that the CPS had an appointment open between Noon and Four PM the next day, so they'd be driving up with the doctor so he and Remy could meet for the first time under safe conditions. And, of course, take the hair samples needed for the paternity test, which would then be taken directly to Worthington Labs.

Charles was pleasant during the call, but spoke only the bare minimum needed for the conversation. He was obviously still upset about the situation. As she ended the call, Carla just couldn't figure it out. The only time she'd seen anything like that was when a man was jealous of another man.

Her mind ticked idly over the thought and another bloomed in its wake. What if Charles and Mrs. Mueller had been lovers? Maybe he thought of Remy as his son now that she was dead... It would explain Xavier's reaction so well. He was afraid of losing the boy he had come to think of as a son. Oh, Carla's heart clenched sorrow at that idea. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She just wished Charles had said something to her about it.

Well, maybe she could speak to the doctor about allowing Xavier to visit every once in a while after they got the official business out of the way.

**::: :::**

Remy was waiting in the lounge with the rest of the team, all dressed nicely for the visit. To humor the CPS agents, nothing more. They had taken the now-young Cajun out shopping the day before to pick up something age appropriate and in the right size. He still refused to wear the damn tie Jean had wanted to put on him.

Xavier sat in his regular wheelchair, the hoverchair tucked away in his office until the visit was over. Rogue and Ororo had made refreshments: sun tea and lemon cakes. They were both dressed conservatively in dark turtlenecks and long skirts. Both sat on opposite sides of Remy, each holding one hand. He wasn't sure if it was to comfort him, or them. Maybe a little of both.

Jean was in a pale pink business suit that bordered on being white and sat next to Scott, who wore yellow polo and a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. They sat on the love seat opposite the door. Logan leaned against the wall behind him, a clean lumberjack shirt on over worn jeans. Bobby stood next to him, dressed in a long sleeve shirt and board shorts.

Hank wasn't in the room, his appearance a bit too controversial for the meeting. Instead, he watched over the cameras from below ground. If Sinister tried anything, he'd be ready.

Two cars pulled up in front of the house, black and official looking. Out of the first stepped three people: Carla, a chubby balding man and a tall man with a regal bearing to him carrying a leather attache case. Out of the second car stepped a skinny woman with a severe looking bun who carried a small suitcase. They approached the door and knocked.

Ororo stood and followed Xavier to the foyer to let their guests in. They both smiled politely and greeted the three CPS agents and gave a slightly colder greeting to Doctor Essex. He played the part of nervous soon-to-be parent quite well. Eyes slightly wide and hands figiting on the strap of his bag. But when the agents weren't looking, when they walked ahead to greet Remy, Essex was smug and calm and utterly full of himself.

The X-Men could only sit there and watch as Carla greeted Remy, speaking to him like the child she thought he was. Small words and smiles and a happy voice, "Remy. I'd like you to meet Nathaniel Essex. Your father. He's a doctor, isn't that nice?"

Remy glared at the man, mistrust painted on his expressive face as he replied deadpan, "Oui. C'est grand."

Carla grimaced and looked back at Essex, who was looking between his feet and Remy in a wholly uncomfortable manner, "He knows French, Doctor. He's very well learned. Why don't you have a seat..." She glanced around for a place to sit.

There was a long couch on the opposite side of the room from where Remy was seated between Rogue and Storm. Carla smiled and gestured to it, trying to defuse the tension in the room that bled off everyone involved. Essex gave a thin smile and moved over to sit down, slipping his bag off his shoulder and setting it at his feet.

With a short look around the room, he leaned forward and picked up a pastry. After eating it as quickly and politely as possible, he clapped his hands in his lap, "Wonderful cake. My compliments to the chef."

Ororo offered a thin smile that never reached her eyes and nodded to the man.

Carla took a deep breath and clapped her hands, "Well! Why don't we take those hair samples now and get that out of the way." She smiled at the other woman, the one with the severe bun, who then stepped into the room and set her briefcase on the table. Flicking it open, she removed a pair of plastic surgical gloves which she secured with a snap. Then a pair of scissors and a plastic bag.

She moved over to the doctor first and gestured at him. He nodded and turned his head to allow her access to the hair at the back of his neck. She did her best not to make the trim too uneven before slipping the black lock into the bag, sealing it and then marking it. It did not escape the doctor's notice how attentive the X-Men were to the sample taking and his response. He smiled innocently and with seeming relief towards Carla just to mock them.

Remy shifted in his seat as a new bag was removed from the suitcase and the lady approached him with the scissors. Mrs. Davidson took it as him being nervous, and rightly so, though for entirely different reasons than she thought, "It's okay Remy. She's not going to hurt you, just cut off a little bit of hair at the back of your neck. Just like a barber would when you go to get a haircut."

His perpetual frown and glare did little to deter the woman, despite his red on black eyes. She was older and didn't seem to care if a kid was a mutant or not. They were all children that needed a firm hand to guide them. She gripped his head with one hand and tilted it to the side, then leaned over and carefully snipped some hair from the very base of his neck where the cut would be hidden by the longer hair around it. She slipped the brown hair into its own bag and sealed it, then removed her gloves and labeled it as well. Nodding to the group, she closed her briefcase over the samples and left.

Carla looked at Xavier pointedly, "Those are going to go straight to Worthington Labs. It shouldn't take more than a week to get the results back. Now, how about we let Doctor Essex and Remy get to know each other. With a little bit of privacy."

The look of alarm that passed over Charles face removed itself quickly enough and he replied politely, "Remy has asked us to stay with him. We'd like to respect that."

"Of course, that's fine," Essex replied with a smile to Carla before she could say anything and waited until she sat down with the other CPS agent on the couch next to him before he opened his attache case. He pulled out a thinly stuffed velveteen rabbit a pearly gray color that looked fairly old with a much newer bright red ribbon around its neck. It wasn't very big, only about a foot from ear tip to toes.

His smile was soft and a bit shy as he stood and leaned over the table to place it in front of Remy, patting it on the head after he carefully set it down. Then he sat back in his seat and lay his hands in his lap, steepling his fingers. The doctor sounded genuinely nervous as he spoke, "Mrs. Davidson said I should bring you a present. I wasn't sure what to get you."

Remy gave him an incredulous look as his eyes went from the rabbit to Sinister and back again, "An' ya got moi a stuffed toy? Ya really think dat I'd like dat t'ing?" He picked up the rabbit and without much effort at all ripped the head off, tossing both pieces back across the table before crossing his arms and looking away.

For his part, Essex looked well and truly appalled for a minute that seemed to stretch into eternity before he leaned forward and carefully picked the pieces of the rabbit up, chuckling bitterly, "I suppose you're right. You're probably too old for such toys. I apologize for not thinking it through."

Carla's heart was breaking over the tantrum and the obvious pain it was putting the doctor through, but she said nothing. She was only there to make sure they didn't end up yelling at each other or acting violent. Her job was to start the dialogue, not lead it.

Essex's hands slowly pet the soft cloth of the rabbits body as he smoothed out the edges of the ripped seams, his voice quiet, his eyes not looking up, "Do you have a sewing kit handy?"

The others glanced at Xavier and he nodded to Ororo who stood, "I'll be just a moment. Please, have something to drink."

She left the room and when she returned several minutes later nothing had changed. No one had availed themselves of the tea. The room seemed to simply be waiting. She felt the familiar panic of claustrophobia and had to remind herself that the only thing making the room feel so small was the tension. Nothing more. She could easily escape.

She set the sewing kit down on the table in front of Sinister and retook her place at Remy's side, taking his hand once more.

The doctor opened the kit and retrieved a needle and black thread. It was the closest to the gray of the velveteen he could get. Threading the needled expertly, he began to carefully and meticulously sew the head of the rabbit back onto its body. It was like sewing together a person after cutting them open. His professionalism didn't allow him to make mistakes and when he finally tied off and cut the final knot, a person would have been hard pressed to determine if the seam was new or original. He picked up the ribbon and re-tied it with an elegant bow.

Then he smiled fondly down at the tow, petting it as he spoke, "This belonged to Adam. You never met him, of course. But he was your brother. From my first and only marriage. Born long before you were."

Jean and Scott found each other's hands, shock on their faces as they looked at him. They had traveled through time and seen the birth of Sinister some time ago. If Essex was telling the truth, the toy was over a hundred years old.

The doctor chuckled, fingers arranging the ears so they would fall just so. He seemed to be speaking as if there were no one else in the room, "He died when he was four. Malformed spine and his body didn't produce enough blood. He tried to live, but his body just wouldn't support him. His heart gave out on him. Nothing we could do. Rebecca... my wife... she bought this for him when he was only two. She's dead now. Like your mother."

He looked up to see Remy's eyes dart away from him and his smiled widened before he set the rabbit down on the table and gave it a little pat once he got it sitting upright, "Mrs. Davidson suggested I give you something sentimental to me. I don't really have much left from that time in my life." He shrugged and stood, picking up his bag. "Well, I'll let you get back to whatever it is you need to do today."

Carla and the other agent followed his lead as he nodded to Charles and extended his hand, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor Xavier." The professor accepted the hand and gave it a brief shake before Ororo helped their guests to the door.

As Essex and the CPS agents got in the car, he gave them a broad smile, "I think that went well, don't you?"

Carla's heart broke for him all over again.

**::: :::**

"Well..." Rogue began, hands folding into her lap as she looked around the room. "That was disturbing and awkward."

Scott nodded and looked at Xavier, meeting his eyes, "I don't know what game Sinister is playing at, Professor, but he's really pulled out all the stops on this one."

The X-Men began standing and stretching, talking about the visit and Sinister's actions with the hair sample. They'd be calling Warren immediately to ensure the test wasn't tampered with.

None of them noticed Remy had slipped out until Ororo started to pick up the uneaten refreshments and found both her friend and the toy gone.

**::: :::**

When she next found him, night had fallen and he was sitting on the roof above his balcony. She spun in the air, ready to join him when her eyes fell on the object in his hands. It was the little rabbit and he was petting it slowly, gently.

She didn't approach, veered off and landed in her room. For the first time she began to question if Essex had been lying at all. And she began to wonder what that meant for the future. More importantly, what it meant for Remy.

**::: :::**

End Chapter


	4. Chapter 4

**Tarnished**

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written and expanded upon by RogueMoon

Original Idea by Peppymint

Posted and continued with permission of Peppymint

Chapter Four

**::: :::**

Remy felt Xavier's mind brush against his. If he weren't used to watching out for such actions – living with three telepaths tended to make a man paranoid – he wouldn't have noticed. Smiling wickedly to himself he conjured up an image of the most disturbing thing he had ever seen: Blob. Naked. The Professor's sent him short burst of disgust followed by a request to join him in his office – the whole reason he had been touching Gambit's mind in the first place, he assured him – then left his mind.

Remy held the image at the forefront of his thoughts, just in case, and made his way up to Xavier's office. He opened the door to find all three telepaths in the room as well as Scott. He decided he didn't want to be there anymore and bolted back out the door. With the picture of Blob in his head, the telepaths were unable to sense his intentions and he got down the hall to the staircase before anyone had the sense to run after him.

He had to weave his way through some of the actual students of the school, thankful for the periods switching and giving him a crowd. Scott was the first out of the Professor's office and the students didn't part for him so easily as they did for an eight year old body. He hopped on the top of the second floor stair rail and saluted the fearless leader over the heads of the students, who were only just realizing something was going on. Then he back flipped down the two stories to the base of the stairs. He had the crowd's attention now.

Scott was pushing his way through the students, who finally started to move for him, sensing the importance of the situation. Gambit could feel Jean trying to get in his head and he ducked under the stairs to keep himself out of her line of sight should she make it to the railing.

"Everyone MOVE!" Scott finally shouted and the students parted like the Red Sea. Jean and Scott barreled down the stairs, following Remy psychically as he escaped through the mansion and to the backyard. It was sunny out and as long as he kept to the less shadowed areas, Betsy wouldn't be able to get him either.

He made for the fence, a straight line through the trees, keeping as many of them between him and the mansion. Keep blocking that line of sight for Jean. It took him longer to scramble up one of the larger trees next to the fence than he liked, but there was little he could do about it. He was too short to just vault over like he usually did. He jumped to the top of the brick and mortar barrier, hearing the crunching of leaves and twigs as his would-be captors got closer.

He lept from the fence and dodged into traffic, sending cars swerving and tires squealing in an attempt to avoid hitting the insane kid. Remy sent an picture of a five car pile up he had witnessed two years before to Jean. Panic and concern flared back from her. Until they got over the fence, the three pursuing him wouldn't know if there really had been a wreck or not.

He made it across the street unharmed and into the small crowd of shoppers next to the gas station, pulling a skate board from one the delinquents standing near the corner smoking weed with his friends. There was the sound of protest as he set the wheels to the ground and let the incline of the hill carry him away. He would have stolen the little Suzuki Crotch Rocket... if he hadn't been in the body of an eight year old.

Remy really wasn't very good on the skateboard and a glance back revealed that his victims friends had decided to give chase. But Jean and Scott and Betsy were no where in sight. He turned his attention back to keeping control of the fiberglass and plastic getaway vehicle. He was going a bit too fast and didn't actually know how to slow down as the streetlight in front of him turned red.

He always had been something of an adrenaline junkie and as the kids yelling at him over the stolen board started to slow, he lay down like he was riding a surfboard. His left hand gripped the board and just as he was about to hit the intersection, his right hand snapped out to grab a sign post. The skate board flew into the crossing cars and Gambit spun around the pole. Using the momentum, he lifted his legs and curled up, hand leaving the post to let him flip at a steep incline upward.

Feet kicked out at the last second, bouncing him off the wall he was headed for and back over the street. His arc took him directly over the streetlight and he let himself fall, landing on his hands and then kicking up to his feet, balancing without effort. He really wished the X-Men would let him back in the Danger Room. He missed this.

Hoots and hollers and whistles of appreciation brought his attention back to reality. Remy looked down and saw the skaters on the street corner cheering him on, his antics having gained their respect. A crowd of pedestrians were gathering and the cars below him going extra slow as the drivers looked up at him in alarm.

He glanced back up the hill and saw the flying forms of his pursuers. As much as he would have liked to stay, he had to keep running. He was too far for Jean to get him with her telekinesis, but that would change if he didn't move.

Running along the crossbeam, he launched himself off the end and across the rest of the street, hands barely catching the corner light pole. Remy was lucky it was only a three lane intersection. Any further and he wouldn't have made it. He slid down the pole as the light turned green and the skaters barreled across the crosswalk, trying to get his attention and talk to him.

He grinned and bowed and then began running, ducking through the crowd. One of the skaters caught up to him and yelled, "Need a ride?"

Remy looked back, seeing the three flying closer. He wouldn't be able to outrun them on his own. He shouted back at the kid, "Sure!"

The skater held out a hand and Gambit grabbed it, letting the guy pull him into his arms.

"Can you get on my back?" The kid asked, still shouting as the wind whipped past them, "Need my arms free."

Remy supposed the kid was a fellow adrenaline junkie and yelled back a 'yes' before swinging himself around the thin waist and finding a secure grip on his back.

"Where you headed?"

"Anywhere dat isn't de Xavier School!"

A nod as the kid lowered his body and they suddenly caught air, landing on a stair rail and grinding, the kid's friends catching up. One of them laughed at them, "Dude! Jake is going to be so pissed we ditched him like this!"

"He's the one who got his board stolen!" Remy's ride laughed back, turning down a joggers path that ran around a small park. Gambit looked back, trying to catch sight of Jean in the air. He couldn't feel her against his mind and could only assume he had gotten out of her telepathic range as well as telekinetic. He saw no sign of the three and frowned to himself. That could mean he had lost them, or it could mean they had gotten ahead of him.

Best to err on the side of caution, "Dere a mall nearby? Place with crowds?"

Remy's ride nodded, "Sure! There's a skate park too. Lots of people there."

"Dat works."

The group of delinquents veered out of the park and down the sidewalk, pedestrians dodging out of their way and cursing them for it.

The skate park was close. And surprisingly full for the time of day. Mostly adults and young children not yet old enough for school. Some truants like Remy's escort, of course. They slowed as they made it to the entrance and Remy hopped off his ride's back, "I be right back, homme. Got ta get me some differn' clothes... an' a helmet."

His new friends nodded and entered the park, yelling where they'd be waiting. Gambit ducked into the bathroom and started thinking about skateboarding, trying to keep his thoughts similar to what he suspected the kids around him had. No one was in the bathroom. That was okay, there would be soon enough.

Only a few minutes passed before a group of three boys, twelve to fourteen from the looks of them, entered. He grabbed the kid closest to his height and held up a wad of twenties, "Trade me clothes and give me your board and helmet. I'll give ya..." He spread the cash and counted it quickly, "Three hundred." Sure, why not. Three hundred was enough to avoid being caught by the telepaths. He could make it back later.

The kid's eyes went wide and he was stripping without even giving a question. Remy left him and his friends grinning like crazy at their good fortune. The clothes were a bit snug and he had to take the pads out of the helmet to get it to fit right, but he blended well with the crowd and Jean would have trouble picking his mind out of the mental noise around him.

He skated over to his new friends and told them his name was Jack. He was unsteady on the board and they laughed at him about it. Surprised at that after the stunt he pulled. Remy shrugged and was honest about it being his first time really using one. Asked them to teach him. They were more than happy to. Whoever their friend Jake was, would be pissed at them later.

The afternoon went on without much incident. He saw Jean, Scott and Betsy wandering along the outside of the park fence while he was on the half pipe learning to do something called a 360 Air FakeOut. The skating moves all had weird names. He concentrated his thoughts on getting the move right, his mind sounding like just another kid obsessed with boarding.

The three pursuers left within a half hour. He didn't leave the park until he spotted Logan walking through the crowd an hour after that, Betsy behind him, looking decidedly upset. He convinced his new 'crew' to come with him and get some chow. He had mixed in with the crowd enough that he figured it would throw the feral mutant off his trail for a while. Remy had the quiet satisfaction of leaving the park without Wolverine giving him a second glance. Skated right past the pair.

**::: :::**

"I think its obvious by now that Gambit knows more about what Sinister is doing that he's been willing to tell us," Scott began.

He and Jean had returned to the Mansion three hours ago to finish their afternoon classes while Logan and Psylocke continued searching Salem Center. The fact that the two were still out looking did not bode well for the Cajun when he eventually returned.

"And whatever it is, I think, has him scared."

The others in the staff room looked up at him in surprise. That wasn't what they had expected to hear.

"Scared? Remy?" Rogue asked, disbelieving automatically. "Remy's never scared even when he is."

Cyclops nodded, "That is the general impression he seems to have given us all, yes. But the evidence is there. We already know he has some sort of history with Sinister. He said that Essex wants him to 'play the hand he dealt' and when we finally asked him about it, he shrugged it off as if it was nothing to worry about. We accepted that. But when the Professor asked him into his office today to discuss yesterday's meeting with the CPS, he bolted for the door. He ran away."

Rogue stood, ready to defend her sometimes boyfriend. But Ororo spoke, cutting her off, "I think, Scott, that you are correct."

The rest of the room looked at Storm in surprise as well. The discussion was, apparently, going to be full of surprises.

"What makes you say that, 'Ro?" Now Rogue sounded worried as she sat back down. She trusted the weather witch when it came to Gambit.

"Last night, I found Remy on the roof as he often is," Storm placed her hands on the edge of the table, pressing lightly with her fingers and gathering her thoughts to present them correctly. "But he was not alone." She held up her hand before anyone could interrupt, "He was with the toy that Sinister brought him. He was... petting it, like Sinister had after repairing it. While I am loathe to suggest this, and hope for Remy's sake that I am very wrong... Have any of you considered the possibility that Sinister _is_ his father? And that is, perhaps, what scares him so much?"

Scott's mouth fell open and he dropped into his seat in shock. Jean bit her lip and looked down at the floor while Xavier studied a distant, non-existent point in space, obviously thinking about it for the first time. Hank and Bobby looked as horrified at the idea as Scott did.

Rogue looked flabbergasted and shook her head slowly in denial, protesting quietly,"No... no way. Not possible."

"Actually," Xavier held up a finger, the room focusing their attention on him. "Remy was adopted by the Thieves Guild when he was ten. He grew up on the street otherwise. He has never indicated that he knew who his birth parents were, so I assumed he didn't. An error on my part, perhaps..."

"Professor! Ya'll can't be serious!" Rogue stood again, desperation in her eyes. "He's fought against Sinister with us before! And they never acted like they knew each other before that. Heck, Sinister's tried to personally kill him a couple times when we've tussled."

Scott nodded along, "I have to agree with Rogue on this Professor, Storm. Sinister has claimed to be my father before, too, and unlike with Gambit, he goes out of his way to keep from killing me." He looked back at the southern girl who was smiling at him in relief and frowned, "But that isn't to say he might not be doing his hardest to actually convince Remy that he is his birth father. If only to cause chaos and sow discord among us.

"We all know that Remy is very loyal to those he considers family. Loyal to a point that it has gotten him in trouble and put him in some very compromising positions, sometimes against us. Sinister no doubt knows this, as much as he's spent watching and observing us as a team. If he can convince Gambit that he is his father, he can gain a very capable, if hesitant ally. And that would tear not only Remy, but the team, apart."

Charles nodded, "That is very valid observation, Scott. And one I think more likely at the heart of the matter than Remy sharing actual family ties with the man. Which means we will have to be extra vigilant about the paternity test. Sinister seemed quite confident about it."

"Thank you, Scott," Ororo spoke up, smiling at the team leader. "I had forgotten that about Sinister. It puts my mind at ease, as terrible as that is, to be reminded."

Hank adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, turning the rooms' attention to him, "It is possible that Sinister has acquired samples of Remy's DNA. The battles we have had with this most Sinister foe tended to be quite bloody. We should speak to Warren about transferring the samples to our lab here and conducting the tests with as much security as possible."

"What if he's already switched the samples?" Rogue asked.

"Then we will ask for a second one to be conducted," Charles answered. "And force the issue with litigation, if needed. Sinister will not take Remy."

Storm and Rogue both smiled broadly at that and Xavier could feel the confidence and mood of the rest of the team lift. Now, if only they could find Gambit and talk to him about this.

**::: :::**

End Chapter


	5. Chapter 5

**Tarnished**

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written and expanded upon by RogueMoon

Original Idea by Peppymint

Posted and continued with permission of Peppymint

Chapter Five

**::: :::**

Remy sat in the middle of the booth, his new friends on either side of him, shoveling pancakes down his throat with gusto. He had ended up skipping lunch with his little escapade out of the Mansion and was famished. His skater crew now had names: Eric, 'Skinny', 'Tweak', Robbie and Jake. Jake had caught up to them on the way to the diner. At first really angry at all of them, but calmed down when Remy – calling himself Jack – flashed a wad of bills and offered to pay for a new board.

The crew accepted him as their new bro and acted like he'd always been a part of their group, not even caring that he was an obvious mutant. They thought his eyes were 'freaking sweet' and better than any of those weird eye contacts you could get for Halloween or from Goth/Punk stores.

Remy was the one paying for the meal. He had easily picked the pockets of people he brushed past on the sidewalk and in the diner without anyone the wiser. Producing yet more cash when needed and making his new friends think his parents were loaded.

He shrugged and smiled, "Well, I do go ta de Xavier Institute. Dat private school costs a pretty penny ta maintain."

They pegged him for a little pervert when he joined them in admiring the women and teenage girls who came inside or walked past on the street. They liked that about him. Asked about the whole running away thing at one point. He shrugged and asked why they were skipping school. They laughed in understanding.

"Dudes," Tweak slapped his shoulder and nodded his head out the window, "Check out the old man. He's been standing there for like, ten minutes."

Remy looked with the rest of them, cursing when he spotted the man and slipped under the table, hoping he hadn't been seen. Not that it mattered, Sinister was a spook. Had probably picked up on his thoughts.

"What's the matter?" Robbie asked, sounding wary as the others shifted in their seats as if to protect him.

"Its..." What could he tell them? That it was a psychopathic mutated geneticist hellbent on kidnapping him and experimenting on his DNA? "...my dad."

"Harsh," they said in chorus. Then Eric spoke up, "Want to bail and try an' lose him?"

"Oui, mon ami. Dat would be a very good thing right now."

Remy shoved a wad of bills onto the table and grabbed his gear, the others gathering around him and blocking him from view as they left. About a block away, Skinny gave the all clear. The old man hadn't given their group a second glance, he looked like he was waiting for someone or something. As curious as that made Remy, he really didn't want to wait around and give Sinister the opportunity to grab him. They jumped on their boards and headed for the other end of town, generally causing a nuisance after they put some distance between themselves and the diner.

**::: :::**

Sinister smiled to himself as his son skated away down the street. He had been listening rather passively to his thoughts and those of the children he was with, curious as to why he wasn't safely at the Institute. He could have taunted his son, told him that he didn't need to worry about being kidnapped when the State was going to give him over legally. But it was far more interesting to make him believe he was almost safe, make him worry about being taken suddenly and without warning.

Essex adjusted his hat and walked in the direction his son had gone with the juvenile delinquents. Following the trail of Remy's mind as easily as breathing. He frowned when his mind picked up the thoughts of two others: Wolverine and Psylocke. They were hunting Remy. His frown turned into a smile and he chuckled to himself.

He picked up his pace slightly, moved across the street, putting himself upwind of the feral mutant. He kept his mind hovering just close enough to the pair to pick up the flare of emotions when Wolverine caught his scent. His smile widened and he strolled non-nonchalantly down the sidewalk, looking for all the world like a man heading home from work.

Psylocke's mind brushed against his and he twisted a mental knife into her, warning her off. He could feel Logan get angrier and the telepath hovered just beyond his shields. They were hunting him now, Remy forgotten. Sinister smiled and led them on a merry chase; he following Remy, they following him.

**::: :::**

Xavier touched the minds of the X-Men at the mansion, _Psylocke and Wolverine have encountered Sinister. They believe he's tracking Remy._

Jean networked their minds and worry floated between the group, _Should we join them?_

_You should be ready to assist if needed_, Xavier replied. _I will continue to keep in contact with them via Cerebro._

_Yes, Professor. You heard him, X-Men,_ Cyclops voice took over. _Suit up and split into teams of two. Get within two blocks of Psylocke and Wolverine and be ready to move if needed._

**::: :::**

"So what do ya guys do for fun besides skating," Remy asked, guiding his board much more agily than he had earlier in the day, easily avoiding obstacles and staying in control. He was a fast learner.

Eric shrugged, "Hang out at home or up at the gas station. Smoke or whatever. Sometimes hit a Rave."

"Dey have Rave's in dis town?"

"Sometimes. In the East End, older part of town. There's this hotel, built in the twenties, falling apart mostly. But the ballroom is still good, makes for some great parties. Ghost hunting up there too."

"Ghost hunting sounds fun," He dodged an older man with a suitcase, too busy talking on his cell to watch where he was going, brushing past his coat and coming away with bulky wallet. His fingers dug through it while he kept his eyes on the road, pulling the cash and then dumping the rest in a trashcan.

"How do you do that?" Tweak asked, coming up beside him as he pocketed the money.

Remy grinned and kicked the board up to grind a short rail that edged the street, "Wit' style, mon ami. Wit' style."

They laughed at him and turned east as they made it into a more rundown neighborhood. There were two so-called gangs in Salem Center, thought they were pretty bad ass and went to war over the part of town the crew was heading through. They didn't use guns, not that bad ass. But bats and chains shifted in the hands of kids too old to be wasting their life like that and too young to care.

Remy didn't spare them a glance, though his new crew were a bit more nervous. Kept their heads down and their eyes directly in front of the, taking the main road to the old hotel despite it being the long way. He could see the building rising two floors above the rest of the area, covered in graffiti even near the roof.

Remy veered off down an alley and his crew followed after some debate, he had somehow established himself as the leader. He smirked as he headed past a group of wanna-be thugs. Waited until his crew was parallel to them before turning around and giving them the finger, then laughing and pushing his board into speeding along the broken ground. His friends paled and followed as fast as they could, the thugs already shouting at them and giving chase.

Gambit peeled back onto the main street, picking up momentum as he crouched low on his board, not looking to see if his crew followed. The continued yelling behind him told him they would be. He made it to the front of the hotel and pulled to a stop, kicked his board up and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and giving a cocky grin. The others stopped near him and clutched their boards as the gang caught up. The group had grown from four to twelve. It was closer to being a challenge.

"You got some nerve pulling that kid," The oh-so-obvious leader of the gang slapped a bat against one hand. "This is our territory. You come here, you have to show us some respect."

Remy kissed the air at him and continued smirking.

The group rattled their weapons, hankering for what they thought was an easy beating. The leader laughed, "I'm going to enjoy wiping the pavement with your face, kid."

"Tell ya what, homme," Gambit cocked his head to one side, handing his board and helmet to Eric. "I'll give ya a fair chance at doin' jus' dat. Me against all o' you. De boys here stay out o' it."

The group laughed and the leader nodded, "Make this easy on me. Sure, why not?"

"Den we have an accord," Remy bowed with a flourish.

His foot was slammed into the leaders crotch before he could blink, the man doubling over with a whimper. Gambit back flipped away, using the hotel wall as a springboard to launch himself at the group once more. When he landed, he landed on the chest of a kid holding a chain, pushing his body to the ground with pure momentum and yanking the chain from his grasp.

He swung the metal links expertly as the group finally began to react to his offensive, nailing another kid in the leg and taking him out at the knees. The rest of the sorry excuse for a fight went just as quickly as the first three opponents. When it was over, he dusted himself off and retrieved his board with a scowl, "Really thought dat would be more challenging. Disappointment be a part of life, no?"

His crew just stared at him for a long time, then cheered and walloped him on the back, leading him inside the dilapidated hotel. They could finish out the night ghost hunting and navigating the crumbling upper floors. The fun was in the danger of it all.

**::: :::**

Sinister found the group of thugs groaning and just standing up outside the front entrance of what used to be a hotel. The sun was setting and the street lights lent an eerie glow to his features as he walked calmly toward them. They looked angry and those that could walk stepped in front of him.

The leader limped forward and grabbed his jacket, "Wrong part of town old man."

Sinister lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at the child, "Release me."

"Or you'll what?"

"Steal your soul," he replied quietly, grinning at his own, deadly joke as his face paled and the blood red diamond appeared on his forehead, complimented by his burning eyes.

The smell told him the leader wet himself before all of them turned and ran. He returned to his more human form and entered the hotel. He could feel the X-Men still following him. Good, that would make this more entertaining.

A quick scan of the area found his son and his new friends on the third floor, on the balcony overlooking the ballroom. They were smoking and talking, joking about ghost hunting. Sinister smiled and walked casually to the large room, lit orange by the light of the setting sun through the broken wall.

He strolled to the center of the room and tilted his head up, looking directly at where the group was gathered, "Don't you have a curfew?"

The talking stopped and he could feel Remy's shields slam down as tightly as he could get them. A couple of the kids looked over the railing. He could hear them whisper 'old man'.

Remy peaked his head through the broken poles of the bannister, "What do ya want?"

"You know exactly what I want. Son," his smiled widened at the glower he received.

"Jean-Luc is my pere, M'seiur," Remy replied stubbornly.

"That's not what the DNA test will say."

Remy gave him the finger.

"Is that the best you can do, child?"

"Ain't a child."

Sinister chuckled and lifted into the air, hovering at eye level with his son, ignoring the shocked looks of the human children beyond him, "The State of New York begs to differ."

"You know better."

"Of course, but that's not the point. I am curious, though, how this came about."

Remy stood and crossed his arms, leaning on the railing, "Ya mean ta tell me ya been doin' all dis work and don' even know how dis happened?"

"I take opportunities as they are presented to me."

Remy gave him the finger again and slapped on his helmet, flipping his board down and pushing himself along the floor next to the rail. Sinister continued to hover in the air where he was, body turning to follow the boy's path. He felt, rather than saw, the human children following after.

"That's very dangerous," he mocked, not referring to how the boy barreled down the nearly collapsed steps.

Remy scoffed as he hit the first floor, "If you were goin' ta do somet'ing about it, ya would have already." Then he skated out of the hotel. His friends looked back to that his old man had disappeared, as if he never existed.

The X-Men were waiting for them outside. Remy stopped and waited for his crew, told them he had to get back to the Institute and waved goodbye. He didn't say anything to the X-Men as they walked back, ignoring their scoldings about running off like that, not answering them when they asked about Sinister. Kept all his effort on keeping his mind closed to them. He really didn't need that kind of shit. He wasn't a child.

**::: :::**

End Chapter


	6. Chapter 6

**Tarnished**

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written and expanded upon by RogueMoon

Original Idea by Peppymint

Posted and continued with permission of Peppymint

Chapter Six

**::: :::**

"Remy, you need to stop avoiding this," Xavier addressed Gambit as he entered the mansion with the X-Men behind him.

The Cajun shrugged, "Ain't avoidin' anyt'ing."

"Your actions earlier this day and your refusal to speak about your history with Sinister say otherwise," the argument was sound and Gambit shrugged again. Charles continued, "We discussed the possible motivations for Sinister's actions and those we will take in response while you were taking the day off. We would like you to join us for a secondary meeting and be more open about your history with him. If only to help us understand why he might be doing this and how to better oppose him."

Remy adjusted his new skateboard where it was held under one arm and headed past the Professor, "Sorry, Chuckles, but I got not'ing more ta add. I be willin' ta listen ta what ya came up wit', but there's not'ing worth adding on my end."

"Gambit, don't walk away from us on this," Scott spoke up. "We're a team and a team helps when one of them is in trouble."

Remy shrugged his shoulders, "Ain't walkin' away, Scooter. Putting my board in my room. Meet you in de War Room or de lounge or Chuckle's office or wherever in ten, ne c'est pas?"

Scott waited until Remy was upstairs and out of hearing range to speak again, "Professor... you didn't happen to pick up any surface thoughts? Anything?"

Xavier shook his head, "Remy is very good at shielding his mind even while lacking his mutant abilities. At the moment, he is so on edge that not even emotions are leaking out. And no, I will not force my way in just to find out what the issue is and you know that, so do please stop thinking about asking me."

Scott sighed and headed for the War Room, "All right... just call him downstairs so we can get this over with."

**::: :::**

The meeting did not go well. To call it a disaster would be kind. Gambit was more closed off than usual, every sentence a joke poorly made or otherwise. He made more jokes the more nervous he got, it was a trait Jean had commented on before but it had never been so pronounced as it was for the two hours they kept him there. He barely listened, added nothing constructive and even managed to make Xavier yell at one point. That was when the meeting ended and everyone was dismissed.

Gambit ran off to the Danger Room, calling up a low level combat program and locking the doors before anyone could stop him. The others, save for Xavier headed grudgingly to the control room to watch over him and make sure he didn't get himself hurt. Scott fumed while sitting at the computer, turned the intercom on and began verbally berating Remy for being so damn childish.

Jean could do nothing to calm him down and even Rogue's threats to drop the man from the stratosphere had no impact. She and Ororo eventually left the two macho men to hash this out themselves, as Remy was shouting back and taunting Scott just as badly as he was being talked to. Logan left after asking if he could join the Cajun downstairs and being told no. Psylocke decided that the night was still young and she was going to do something more useful with her time. Giving Remy a pity party was not her idea of fun.

That left Jean sitting in the control room trying to mediate between the man at the intercom and the man-child beating up an endless string of special service trained computer agents. Her only consolation being that he had been smart enough not to pick a battle scenario that included mutant opponents

Scott's mind was closed off to her in anger so she had no idea what he was doing until it was too late. The Danger Room changed from the street battle in a random downtown metropolis to the white steel walls of Sinister's lab. The opponents vanished, replaced with tanks holding cloned experiments and the eerie beeping of monitoring machines.

Remy's mental state went from angry to panicked and he screamed at Scott, "Put it back! Dis ain't funny!"

"No. It's not. But if you are so bent on working things out in a fight, I figured a fight with the problem would help you more," Cyclops replied in a deadpan. "The programing is locked in. The scenario won't end until it plays through."

"Jeannie?! Jean, you can stop this can't you?" Remy's eyes were darting around the dark room he was in, praying that Scott was lying.

"No... its one of the fail-safe scenarios for testing new members before putting them on the team. It won't end until it plays out. The enemies are still loading, you have two minutes to prepare before it starts."

Scott's voice came over the intercom, "And just so you know, I am aware that you have a special sub-routine programed into the Marauder's and Sinister's personality coding. I've played with it before, and nothing seemed to be different from the regular programming... but until now, I haven't had an opportunity to see it in action with the person it was intended for. I'm really interested in finding out exactly what changes with you there."

Jean could feel dread pour out of Remy and on the monitors he began to run, disappearing into the maze of halls and air ducts. She glared at Scott, "This is wrong and you know it."

Scott nodded, "Yeah. It is. But we aren't going to get anything out of him any other way... maybe not until it's too late and I'd rather risk it where we can monitor him than out there where Sinister isn't a hologram that shuts off once the scenario ends."

Jean turned her attention back to the monitors, "He doesn't even know the goal."

"He'll figure it out. He's not stupid."

A thirty second warning alarm rang in the room as the Marauders and Sinister appeared in their pre-programmed places. All too quickly, they began to move and the Danger Room began the scoring for Gambit's performance.

**::: :::**

_Jeannie! Help me out here! I got no powers..._ Gambit sent the thought into the mental ether, knowing Jean would pick up on it.  
She answered immediately, _Sabertooth has your scent already and the the Marauders are on alert. Sinister is acting amused by your intrusion and has already commented on how puzzling it is that your powers are at 0%. They are on orders to bring you to him alive and unharmed for inspection._

_What ends de scenario?_

_You have to get the captive mutant child out or you have to be eliminated as a threat to Sinister, based on what we know he considers a threat. That means you can be captured and jailed and the scenario will continue if he has even a 1% chance of still considering you and your actions a credible threat to him._

_Mon dieu! Dis scenario never end den..._

_Why?_

_Cause I'm not sure I can effectively free de kid wit' how I am and I know dat Sinister ain't ever going ta eliminate me as threat so long as I oppose him. It's part of my sub-routine._

_Remy, you need to move, Sabertooth is at the other end of the hall. Vertigo is with him._

Gambit cursed to himself and scrambled to the end of the vent where it turned sharply upwards. He began to climb as the wall behind him was ripped open. Then he got dizzy and knew that the green haired witch was using her powers on him. He allowed himself to throw up, but kept climbing. Creed's laugh echoed around him and then he was sliding upward, a hand around his ankle pulling him. Maybe he was being pulled sideways. It was hard to tell with the world spinning around him.

The spinning slowed and when it ended he found himself being dragged by the neck down the halls. A very amused pair of Marauders laughing at him and joking about his de-aged state. He hated being a child again. If he had been full grown and could charge, the goal would have been reached by now. He was going to kill Scott.

Sinister was waiting for him, of course. His appearance wasn't quite accurate, but Scott tended to have an overblown sense of drama when it came to programing the doctor's visual appearance. Probably had something to do with being his own personal boogieman since childhood. This iteration was taller than the real thing by at least five inches and the waist was thinner by three, making his massive chest look a lot more rippled and muscled than he actually was. His goatee looked painted on rather than grown and his hair was a flat top instead of slicked back, making him appear to have some African-American in him. Which, technically, was possible, considering all the genetic enhancement he had done to himself.

The scientist chuckled at Gambit's appearance and sat down on his steel throne with an amused smirk, "LeBeau... to whom do I owe my gratitude for this change of pace?"

Sabertooth tossed Remy forward onto the short set of steps and Sinister frowned at him, causing the feral man to step back a few feet, though he didn't otherwise appear to be repentant for his actions. Gambit stood up and dusted himself off before sneering at the man before him, "Mojo."

"Do tell," the amusement was back and he had Sinister's full attention.

"Homme thought it be funny ta make de X-Men all kids again... 'cept when we finally got out o' dat dimension, I be de only one dat stay like dis. Dey haven' found a way ta reverse it."

"So you come to me?"

Gambit crossed his arms and looked away, it could be a roundabout way to end the scenario, "Oui."

"Remy, my boy, no need to be so defensive," Sinister stood and paced over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder with a large, pointed grin, "I'm quite happy and willing to help you in your time of need. I always have been."

He never should have programed that subroutine in. Gambit rolled his shoulder out of Sinister's grasp as the Marauder's were sent away, leaving the two alone to talk. The scientist strolled casually to one side and produced a needle from somewhere, "I'll have to run some tests of course..."

"We talk de terms first."

Sinister chuckled and set the needle down, turning to face him, "I'm sure you'll be able to accomplish any task I set for you. I have full confidence in your abilities, my boy, despite your disappointing reaction to the Morlock affair."

Gambit looked at his feet and took a deep breath, sending his mind to Jean, _How much of a threat does dis thing rate me as?_

_23%_

_Better dan I thought..._

_Gambit, the child is-_

_-is not going ta be rescued de right way dis time. Can't do it like dis. Have ta end it another way, and dat means I can't be a threat ta him since dere be only two ways out._

_I can call Kurt, we can teleport you and the child out. It's cheating, but it will work._

_How long will it take ta get him here?_

_A few hours? I'm sorry, but he's..._

_In England, oui. Not going ta stay here dat long, Jeanie. I get myself out another way. I programed de subroutine, I know how to work de system. Keep me updated on my threat level, oui?_

_Sure. Good luck._

_Thanks._

Remy looked over at Sinister, who waited with infinite patience. He let out a long sigh of frustration and moved to the throne, tossing himself in it.

_You just jumped to 32%._

Gambit turned his gaze back to Sinister and smiled.

_You've jumped again, 54%._

He laughed out loud.

_My god, Remy, you're now at 97%. What kind of changes did you make to this thing?_

_De ones dat mattered, Jeanie. Just keep me posted._

Remy kept grinning, "You got any beer? For some reason de X-Men think dat because I'm in de body o' child I should be treated like one."

Sinister's mouth quirked in further amusement, not at all looking like he was as concerned with Remy as the computer said he was, "I believe Gray Crow keeps some in the rec room fridge. You are well aware my tastes are more refined than that."

"Yeah, but we can't all have a stick up our asses about a good Merlot."

Another chuckle and Sinister approached him slowly, "You appreciate a fine vintage as much as I do, my boy. You might as well tell me what's on your mind, as it is clearly not new terms for my services."

_You're at 100% now._

"I been like dis for three weeks, M'seiur. An' de X-Men haven' let me out on any missions."

"Ah... I see. You did not come for a cure then. You came to free that new specimen of mine."

Remy sighed and shrugged, "It kind o' be a blow ta de ego dat I really am as helpless as they've been treatin' me."

_71%_

"You realize you have little chance of freeing her, don't you? Of course you do, else you wouldn't be speaking with me now. Do the X-Men realize you are gone?"

"Dey will tomorrow, prob'ly. Figured, since I was here and can't do de job I came ta, I might as well take advantage o' de situation and see if ya could come through where dey haven't."

The scientist nodded and gestured for Remy to get up. He did so and Sinister took his seat, grabbing Gambit by the back of the shirt and lifting him into his lap, arm around his waist. The Cajun squirmed, trying to get down.

_30%_

"Do stop struggling, I'm not about to harm you. Yet."

"It's dat 'yet' dat I'm worried about."

"As you should be, my boy, just not at this moment," Sinister agreed, loosening his arm once Gambit stopped trying to get out of his grip. "I am no longer sure I wish to help you."

"What? Why?"

"You are a child again. This is an opportunity one does not get every day, you know." Remy glared at him and received a laugh in return, "Think about it, my boy. You have the opportunity to come into your powers again... Keeping and controlling them to their fullest, even, if you so desire. I can easily return what was taken. It would give me the chance to observe your development more fully, as well."

Gambit was silent for several minutes, thinking, "Hadn't considered dat."

_22% and falling._

"Of course you didn't. You are a cunning man, LeBeau, but you rarely think all that far ahead. The only time I've seen you do any kind of extensive planning is when you were going over the details of a job."

"So... dis kid you took. How much she worth ta ya?" Remy's head was working, a new plan forming.

_33%_

"That depends on the counter offer."

Gambit leaned back against his chest and flipped his head back to look up at him, grinning.

_75%, Remy. You're going backwards._

_Trust me, chere. I just figured out a way ta free de kid._

Sinister raised an eyebrow at his antics.

Remy continued to grin, "I be de counter offer, M'seiur. Whatever other terms ya want, so long as ya let de kid go and help me wit' returnin' ta my normal body."

Sinister smiled, not a kind smile, "Deal."

The scenario ended.

**::: :::**

End Chapter


	7. Chapter 7

**Tarnished**

A X-Men Fanfiction

Written and expanded upon by RogueMoon

Original Idea by Peppymint

Posted and continued with permission of Peppymint

Chapter Seven

**::: :::**

_The door to her bedroom was flung open with abandon. He had to see her, to see that she was alright, that the wail he heard from the drive was not her last. The air was thick with sickness, but he could see her. See her moving, curling in on herself, body wracked with silent sobs._

"_Rebecca!" He calls out, heading to her, the woman he had forgotten he loved. Foolishly forgotten in his grief and obsession for the last two years._

"_Please, sir! Quiet. I have only just calmed the poor girl," the attending doctor stepped in his path._

_Nathaniel hesitated, looking to his fellow for a shred of hope, "But... but the child..."_

"_Is dead, good sir. Born prematurely. Perhaps induced by some sudden stress," the man was sympathetic. He had helped birth the couple's first child some six years before. He was a kind man, a well practiced doctor. Had the baby been able to be saved, he would have been the one to do it._

_Nathaniel nodded and moved past him, going to her beside and kneeling down. He had so much to apologize for. His arms brushed over her sides as he leaned against her chest in a desperate embrace. She was only half awake, but that didn't matter. She would still hear him as he whispered to her, "Oh, Rebecca. I am so sorry. Please... forgive me. But this is not the end, my love. When Adam died... I withdrew from you. You suffered alone. But I swear, on my life, you shall never be alone again. I realize now that you mean more to me than my work. More to me than science... I have returned to you, sweet Rebecca. We shall live again. We shall laugh again."_

_A hand came to rest on his shoulder. The birthing doctor, giving him a small squeeze of comfort, "Mister Essex... please wring what solace you can from these last precious moments with your wife, for I am afraid her time grows shorter with each passing moment."_

"_No! Rebecca, you cannot die!" His eyes, filled just a heartbeat ago with joyful tears, widened at the words._

"_Courage, man. There is nothing to be done," The doctor pulled his hand away and took his nurse by the elbow, leading her away to give the couple time alone. Whatever time they had left._

"_Nath....Nathaniel..." Rebecca spoke with labored breaths, eyes on her husbands' face as she gripped his hand in hers. "...my husband...you ask for my forgiveness. This... I cannot... give you."_

"_Rebecca!" His voice was hollow._

_One finger shook as it struggled to lay against his lips, "Shhh... let me speak while I can... I loved you, Nathaniel Essex. At first... it was only duty... but I grew to love you... with all my heart."_

_He shook his head violently and pressed her hand to his lips, kissing the fingers, eyes shut, "No! It is to cruel! I refuse to let you die!"_

"_Some things are beyond... even your power, Nathaniel," She replied almost calmly, sadly. "If only you could have accepted that... things might have been different."_

"_Things can be different!" He was pleading with her now. His only love, his reason for living. "I have turned my back on the monster I might have become!"_

"_I was so proud of you. You were so brilliant. So... romantic, in your own way. But after Adam died, you became twisted. Twisted... and cruel."_

"_Cruel? No, I never meant to be... No. You are right. As ever, dear Rebecca," another kiss to her hand, "you are thoroughly right. And I am damnably... wrong." His fingers cupped her cheek, hope in those brown eyes, "But you must hold on... I shall save you... I shall use all my genius!"_

"_Your genius!" she said it like a curse and glared at him, pushing his hand away from her face. "See where your so-called genius has brought us, Nathaniel! In the end I felt, and feel... no love for you. Your... genius has seen to that." The angrier she was, the harder her breathing became. Still she continued, "You are my husband, but you... disgust me! You have made me lose... my child... to me... you are... utterly... and contemptibly... sinister!"_

_Death claimed her with that final word, a rattle of air pushing it from her lungs before her hand falls limp in his. He stands woodenly, her fingers slipping from him as he looks down upon his only hope for redemption. His only hope for a life not as a monster... she had taken it from him with her love, because love cannot conquer all. His love could not make her forgive him for his obsession. His love could not keep her alive._

_Love was meaningless._

**::: :::**

_The sledgehammer broke apart another tombstone. Another marker of those whose blood and bone brought Nathaniel into the world. Another slab of stone bearing the name Essex inscribed with pious scriptures. Every grave in the family cemetery dating back to who knows when. The oldest memorials had long since had their names weathered away by wind and time._

_And when they are all destroyed, all smashed and broken... he is still Nathaniel Essex. He is still a man who lost everything he cared about because of his own blind obsession._

"_Oh dear god... if only... if only I could turn back time!" he whispers as he stands over the decimated marker of Adams' grave. He doesn't need to see the now scattered words to know what it once said. His head leaned back and he looked into the night sky, so clear and beautiful and at odds with the pain. It should have been raining. "No... fool! There is no god. And time is not a highway..." He brought the pistol to his head and cocked it, finger wrapping around the trigger, "...down which we can travel."_

_He was still the monster of a man, Nathaniel Essex, and there was but one way to escape from that._

_So why couldn't he pull the trigger?_

**::: :::**

He woke slowly. Eyes refusing his command to open them, lids stuck together with the dry salt of tears long since shed. When had he been crying? More importantly, why?

He pushed the thick blanket off himself and strode toward the bathroom with that half-awake lack of grace that afflicted so many of his fellow man. He was still like the baseline humans in so many ways. He still needed to sleep, to eat. He was driven by his passions. But he was also so much more than them now. He was like unto a god. A god without the pointless morals or emotions that held mortal man back from all he could achieve.

So what had made him cry? Surely it couldn't be the memories of his last hours as a mere human. He felt nothing in regards to them during his waking hours. They couldn't possibly cause him grief in his sleep. He was far to experienced a telepath to not know what his subconscious mind was up to.

And yet...

He paused in his trek, eyes finding the water damaged music box. It no longer played. He had dropped it on the rain soaked streets of London following the funeral of Darwin. Dear Charles to whom he had left the future when he became Sinister. He dropped it to prove that Nathaniel Essex was dead and he had let go of it all.

His pale fingers lifted the brass box to open the casing and look upon fair Rebecca. The glass covering her portrait cracked and broken. The picture bubbled and warped and browned beyond repair. She smiled back at him despite it all. A handsome woman. Eyes, dark. Jaw, delicate. Cheekbones, lofty. Skin, rather like milk. Lips...

The music box returned to him in 1914. It was on display in the window of a used goods store, the brass still fine enough to fetch a few pence. He hadn't meant to stop. Hadn't meant to enter and find other items that once belonged to his family, to Milbury house. Little things, like the rabbit and some candle sticks and even her wedding dress, lace yellowed and silk cracked with age. He hadn't meant to buy it all and take it home, store it in a metal box lined with black velvet and lock it all away.

He hadn't ever meant to open that box again.

He could probably fix the mechanism that made the music. Have a new glass plate made to cover her face. But what would the point be in such action, indulging in the sentimentality he shouldn't feel? Indulging in the sentimentality that ghosted through his mind just beyond his ability to control. The box snapped shut and was put back on its shelf.

He continued with his morning routine. Showered, no need to shave, brushed his teeth because he liked the cleanliness of the act and changed his appearance to a normal human one before getting dressed in mundane clothing. He was meeting with Carla Davidson for brunch and then to discuss what would be required of him so far as follow up appointments after Remy was returned to him. She was confident the paternity test would settle everything and just the basic legal paperwork would need to go through final processing before he could take custody of his child.

She was such a useful tool.

**::: :::**

He met her at a small diner sitting next to a daycare center. She smiled and greeted him with a handshake, "Doctor Essex. Thank you for coming out here."

"It was no issue. Though I confess I am curious as to why you insisted on this... establishment," he couldn't quite keep the disdain from his voice. The place wasn't exactly the cleanest by any stretch of the imagination and the noise from the daycare, the shrieks of overly sugared and active children piercing the air, made it difficult to believe a meal could be enjoyed there.

She laughed and blushed slightly when he pulled her chair out for her, "You are quite the gentleman, Doctor. I actually have appointments to see several of the children and their guardians next door this afternoon for follow ups. It was convenient for me."

"Ah, I see," he murmured, taking his own seat and ordering a black coffee with wheat toast, no butter from the waitress who had been waiting for him to finally sit down. Carla ordered blintzes and they dived quickly into the discussion they had come for. It was terribly dry and business-like, interspersed with only a few jokes and light, comfortable flirting on both parts. Nothing serious as she was married and he had no real interest in her beyond keeping her inclined to like him.

When the meeting was finished, it really wasn't enough to count as a meal, the doctor escorted her next door, holding the doors for her as a gentleman should. It was rather pleasant to act on the common courtesies he had been raised with so long ago. So many women thought they had to be 'independent' and would not allow a man to act politely. Carla had no superfluous illusions.

Once inside the daycare, the two were accosted by children running around apparently without supervision. Appearances could be deceiving, of course. Though, if they were, it was a very good deception. After the fourth pass of the same two shrieking and giggling four-year-olds playing tag and deciding his legs were the perfect tunnel, he grabbed them by their collars and lifted them easily to look him in the eyes. His expression was mild as Carla let out a soft gasp and he raised an eyebrow at the two, "Do play elsewhere. My legs are not toys."

The kids nodded, eyes wide and full of the wonder and blossoming adoration that came from seeing an adult do something 'cool'. Such as easily lifting two children off the ground. Essex set them back down and they ran off to the other side of the room as Carla cringed and mouthed 'sorry' to him before a worker finally noticed them and waved. Mrs. Davidson waved back and yelled over the noise, "You can leave anytime, Doctor. Thank you for escorting me inside."

He grinned and waved politely while she walked off. But he didn't leave, instead going to the waiting area and sitting down, legs crossed as he watched the children continue their chaotic rule of the center. Both inside and out on the playground visible through the glass, the source of the dissonance heard at the diner. He was hidden from view of the general facilities, Carla out of his view and he out of hers. That was preferable.

Nathaniel Essex rather liked children. They were innocent, little bundles of nature's promise. Delicate, fragile, full of life. It was for them that he had begun his work. So that no more of those tiny bodies would have to suffer the same fate as Adam. To be born weak and pointlessly, randomly, mutated in a way that served no purpose for the continuation of the species. Rebecca hadn't understood him. That he had done it for Adam... for her and their unborn child. For mankind and the great mutation.

One of the little brats he had picked up spotted him and veered in his run around the room, coming over to him, arms stretched out and imitating a plane. Little could he know, could anyone know, that he might actually have the possibility for flight within his DNA. The child tugged at his pants and once he was sure he had the doctor's attention, held his arms up and jumped in place.

Essex smirked at the request to be picked up, clear even to those who could not read minds. He leaned over his knees and looked the child in the eyes, "Do you want to be a plane today?"

The kid shook his head and bit at his nails, "No. I want to be a space man!"

"Is that so? You intend for me to be your rocket ship, then?"

The kid grinned and nodded his head. The doctor chuckled and pulled a small candy from his pocket, handing it to the boy and then ruffling his hair before turning him around and giving a gentle push, "I am not a rocket ship, child. Go play with your friends."

The boy no longer cared about flying, he had candy to preoccupy him and he ran off with the treat in his mouth. Essex shook for a moment with soft laughter at the pleasant and innocent, unsullied thoughts of the boy. He shut his eyes and leaned back, expanding his senses to listen to all the children there. So much pure delight and wonder. The occasional bout of pain or anger quickly dissipated by the reassurance of an adult.

He hadn't indulged his senses like that in years and it was rather relaxing to take some time to do so. Carla left while he sat there, never even noticing him. The daycare emptied out over the hours and his presence went unheeded until 6pm when the center closed for the day. A few children still remained, and would until their parents, late to pick them up, came. The discord of the lone worker's thoughts at having to stay late brought him out of his revelry.

He stood and dusted himself off, drawing the attention of the children and the worker, a woman in her thirties with nothing better to do than go home and watch TV. She had no reason to complain, even in her own head. Her demeanor brightened at seeing him, instant attraction for an decent looking older man with no ring on his finger, but not so old he could be her own father.

"Oh! I didn't see you there sir. I'm so sorry, can I help you?"

He smiled politely at her, it didn't reach his eyes, but she didn't seem to notice, "Just observing. I am in the process of gaining custody of my son... his mother kept him from me... and was merely interested in how your facilities were run." He nodded at the children who were sitting on the carpet staring at him, "You seem to do quite well with keeping them occupied and in line. What is the oldest you take?"

"Cut off is at six for public schooled and eight for home schooled," She replied pleasantly. "How old is your son?"

"Eight."

"How long til he turns nine?"

"About two months."

"A bit old then."

"So it seems," he agreed, smiling at the children. This one did reach his eyes as he wiggled his fingers in a wave. "Do you mind if I stay for a bit longer? I love children."

She shook her head, any fears she might have had over him easily dissipated with a mental push, "Nope. Could use the company."

**::: :::**

End Chapter

Author's Note: Memory scenes and dialogue come from "The Further Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix" which was, essencially, the origin story of Mr. Sinister. He is portrayed as having a soft spot for children throughout the book and in most of his comic appearances that actually involve a child under the age of ten.


End file.
